


you keep my eyes sweetly

by Ester



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Kid Fic, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Sexual Content, Sort Of, briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24901126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ester/pseuds/Ester
Summary: “Feel free to take a seat and we’ll start. These things are scheduled for half an hour, but often a lot of the younger ones leave early, if they get fussy. You can interrupt me, if you need to come get her, it’s fine.”At first, Seungcheol thought it an odd thing to make explicitly clear. But as Jeonghan started his story for the day, and he saw how enraptured the kids were, how they seemed to almost topple forwards as they followed the librarian’s every exaggerated facial movement and hand gesture, he could easily envision an awkward parent army-crawling, trying not to break the spell, as they extracted their kids from the enchanted audience.// Jeonghan is a children's librarian, who does storytime sessions every morning. Seungcheol is running out of ways to entertain a three-year-old.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 23
Kudos: 208





	you keep my eyes sweetly

**Author's Note:**

> This whole mess came from seeing a picture of Jeonghan wearing a pink cardigan and tweeting that he looked like a sweet little librarian. How this ended up containing more explicitly sexy things than anything I've ever posted before, I don't know. I just spiritually left my body and typed this in like a day. 
> 
> Please note that in this fic, I've described Seungcheol's family but they are all purely fictional creations and not meant to resemble his real life family members in any way. I don't know anything about his real family, nor should I.
> 
> And thank you to Rose (MurderRose/RoseEnDiamant) for linking me to some resources on how to write children. Mayhaps I didn't make the best use of them, but the support and encouragement meant a lot to me!

When Seungcheol had last been to the Seongsu Main Library, he had been a teenager studying for his end of school exams. Back then, the library had been stuffy, grey, and deadly silent. Ten years and considerable renovations later, it was an airy space, furnished with light-coloured wood and minimalist design. Late spring sunlight flooded in from huge wall-to-ceiling windows and there was enough chatter and excitement in the air that Seungcheol didn’t feel mortified, when Sumi pointed at a huge teddy bear guarding the entrance to the children’s section and shrieked with ear-piercing joy like only a three-year-old could.

“I know,” Seungcheol agreed, nodding. He hefted Sumi up on his arms a little and swiftly carried her past the bear and towards the circular bay dedicated to the library’s daily storytime sessions. It was only a few minutes until ten, and Seungcheol knew that had he let Sumi down to inspect the bear, they certainly wouldn’t have made it in time and most likely not at all. At any given moment, the kid had more curiosity crammed into her tiny toddler body than Seungcheol suspected he’d ever experienced in his whole life.

At the storytime nook, there were already a dozen children waiting, sitting on the ground on colourful pillows arranged in a half circle. Someone was fussing around with a bean bag chair in the middle of the circle, nudging it around with their foot.

“This is storytime, right?” Seungcheol made sure, walking up to who he could only assume was the librarian in charge. The librarian turned and flashed him a smile bright enough to blind.

“It is! Good timing, we’re just about ready to start.” The librarian was a young man around Seungcheol’s age and height. He had a pretty face, caramel-coloured hair that just brushed his cheekbones, and a lilting voice that dripped with sweetness as he bent down a little to be on eye-level with Sumi, who was clinging to Seungcheol’s shirt, and greeted her softly. The kid was usually shy with strangers, but she seemed receptive, though a little unsure, of the librarian – choosing to hide her face only half against Seungcheol, while the other half kept a curious eye on the stranger.

“I’m Jeonghan,” the librarian told Sumi, “What’s your name?”

“Sumi,” she said, after a pause long enough that Seungcheol was preparing to answer for her. Jeonghan nodded, as if he were analysing this information very seriously.

“That’s a great name. Do you wanna hear a story, Sumi?” She nodded, more decisively now. “Excellent. You can sit right here, next to me. There’s a pillow waiting just for you.” Jeonghan said, pointing out a plush square that was within reach of the beanbag chair, on the left-hand side. Sumi jerked in Seungcheol’s grip like she was ready to leap out at the librarian’s command. He set her down on her feet and she waddled straight over to where Jeonghan had pointed and sat down, looking up at them both expectantly.

Jeonghan turned to Seungcheol and his smiled dimmed a little; settled into something pleasant rather than enchanting.

“Yoon Jeonghan, I’m the children’s librarian. You two are new, right?” When he wasn’t addressing a toddler, his voice was surprisingly deep, though, to Seungcheol’s private amusement, a sweetly cooing tone lingered in it.

“Choi Seungcheol. And yeah, I just saw the advert for these yesterday. I’m really running out of things to occupy her with,” he laughed sheepishly. Jeonghan nodded knowingly and gestured to the edge of the rounded space, where a handful of adults sat on normal-sized chairs and looked like looming giants.

“Feel free to take a seat and we’ll start. These things are scheduled for half an hour, but often a lot of the younger ones leave early, if they get fussy. You can interrupt me, if you need to come get her, it’s fine.”

At first, Seungcheol thought it an odd thing to make explicitly clear. But as Jeonghan started his story for the day, and he saw how enraptured the kids were, how they seemed to almost topple forwards as they followed the librarian’s every exaggerated facial movement and hand gesture, he could easily envision an awkward parent army-crawling, trying not to break the spell, as they extracted their kids from the enchanted audience.

While the story was too childish to properly hold Seungcheol’s attention, the librarian himself proved more than interesting enough. He was dressed in a pink cardigan too large for his slim frame, yet his legs were encased in a very well-fitting pair of jeans. He wore a little silken scarf tied in a bow against his throat and either he had on a heavy layer of lip balm that managed to catch the light, or there was a slick of lip gloss over his mouth. He looked pretty, bright, and eye-catching, which probably worked to endear him to the children, but also worked to distract Seungcheol so thoroughly that he didn’t check his phone even once in the half hour. 

Sumi hadn’t made a peep during the story, but it was becoming rapidly clear to Seungcheol that he’d pushed his luck to its breaking point. As soon as Jeonghan closed the elaborately decorated fake book shell that hid his reading material, Sumi started to fuss and writhe in her seat. He hurried to pick her up before she melted down and gave her a little triangle shaped carton of juice to distract her from the story being over and from the noise and activity level rising as the other kids started to snap out of their Jeonghan-induced stupors.

“Thank you for coming, Sumi,” Jeonghan told her, as he drifted over. There was a kid practically hanging off his leg, who he simply petted on the head, as if children hung off him here and there all the time. Sumi was too occupied hoovering down her juice to say anything, but she stared at Jeonghan, head bobbing a little, eyes huge. “You were a very good listener.”

“Uh-huh,” she uttered, abandoning the juice box so abruptly only Jeonghan’s quick hand saved it from falling to the floor. He shook it to check it was empty and promptly chucked it at a bin some metres away. It hit the bag cleanly. The kid hanging onto his leg squealed and Sumi’s eyes grew, if possible, even larger.

“Say thank you for the story and goodbye,” Seungcheol directed, angling Sumi better towards the librarian. He suspected that if he left Sumi around Jeonghan for much longer, she’d be refusing to leave the library soon.

“Thank you for. The story and goodbye,” Sumi repeated, tripping over her words, but making such intense eye contact that she got her message across loud and clear. Jeonghan smiled at her so widely his eyes crinkled.

“You’re welcome. Goodbye, Sumi. I hope I’ll see you again soon,” the last bit he addressed to Seungcheol also, who nodded over her head.

“We’ll be back. This was great, thanks,” Seungcheol wiped Sumi’s sticky mouth on his shirtsleeve and ducked down a little to catch her eye, “But I think it’s time to go home to mom now, right?” Jeonghan wiggled his fingers a little in a parting wave, as they headed towards the exit, stopping only briefly to also say goodbye to the bear at the door. 

It was only a ten minute drive from the library, but by the time Seungcheol managed to wrangle Sumi through the front door of his brother’s house, she’d managed to retell Jeonghan’s story in impressively recollected detail, discuss her thoughts on the taxonomy of bears - which was that there were good bears, brave bears and white bears - and take a nap so hard it had left her sleep-flushed and noodle-y. Seungcheol loved his niece more than most things in the world, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t glad to return her to his sister-in-law’s care.

After being kissed and fussed over a little by her mother, Sumi wandered off towards her bedroom. Seungcheol politely waved off Sohyun’s offer of lunch but accepted a cup of coffee. When he had moved back to Seongsu after a tumultuous five-year career in a soulless megacorporation, he hadn’t really known his brother’s wife well at all. Sohyun and his brother had always lived back home and Seungcheol had visited rarely. He’d been deep enough in the corporate swamp that taking a day off to see his family had felt like time wasted. It was only after their father’s funeral and his burnout and move back home that he’d started to get to know her. 

Sohyun was easy to be around; plain-spoken and unrufflable, she took in stride whatever came at her and handled it with the sort of quiet grace Seungcheol couldn’t have emulated even during his best days. Where Sumi’s tantrums flustered him as soon as they started, Sohyun never seemed to even bat an eye at them.

“It’s because I know how to delegate,” she told him over the kitchen counter, as they sipped their coffees, “The reason I have the mental fortitude to listen to her scream like a banshee is because every day I make you take her for two hours and if your brother’s home I ask him to handle her. Unlike some people,” she thew him a pointed look, with raised eyebrows for good measure, “I know when to ask for help.”

“Fair enough,” Seungcheol took the jab. His prideful bullheadedness and staunch refusal to admit he was struggling really had managed to cause enough trouble in the past year to last their family a lifetime. For two months, Sohyun had raised her own child, worked part-time, planned a funeral, helped manage her dead father-in-law’s estate, and kept an eye on her brother-in-law in the midst of a breakdown severe enough that he still hadn’t quite shaken off the lingering effects of it. Seungcheol emptied his cup and said his goodbyes, promising to see her and her daughter at nine o’clock sharp the next day as usual.

It was something they’d set up mutual benefit. From Monday to Friday, Seungcheol would arrive at nine and take charge of a fed and clothed Sumi until lunch time. It allowed Sohyun a hundred and twenty minutes of absolute freedom and forced his otherwise empty sabbatical schedule into some semblance of routine. To Seungcheol it didn’t seem like very long at all, at least if Sumi was in a good mood, but according to Sohyun there were three parents she knew, who were offering serious money to get their kids in on the arrangement.

At first, he’d settled for taking her into a park nearby to run out her morning energy on the playground. The thing was that he didn’t know what to do with kids: especially kids as young as Sumi. Until her birth, he’d been the youngest in the family and none of his friends had had kids yet. She’d gotten bored of the playground sooner than Seungcheol had prepared for and a mad scramble for activities had begun.

He’d taken her to swimming school, they painted, played endlessly with dolls and slime and Legos, played soccer and once he’d even taught her how to do a taekwondo side kick. That one, truth to be told, was more for his own amusement. His brother had nearly beat his ass when she’d demonstrated Uncle Seungcheol’s teachings on his shin. Rock bottom had come, when they ended up in Seungcheol’s car, eating strawberries from the farmers’ market and watching YouTube videos from his phone until it was an acceptable time to head back home.

It was only by pure chance, when he’d been trying to stop her from eating that day’s edition of the Seongsu News, that he’d spotted an advertisement for the library’s storytime programme.

After the first day, Seungcheol and Sumi became loyal attendees at Yoon Jeonghan’s storytime. They couldn’t quite make it every day – after all, sometimes the weather was simply too nice to sit indoors, or Sumi was too hyper or cranky to inflict on the relative peace of the library. But at least twice a week, they made the drive to the library and sat listening to Jeonghan tell a tale so convincing that every child present was left with a stalwart belief in dragons. Slowly, Seungcheol ended up arriving earlier and earlier, just to have time for a little pre-story chat with the librarian. After he’d moved back to Seongsu, Seungcheol hadn’t really had much opportunity to talk face to face with an adult, who wasn’t also his family, considering his friends all lived in Seoul and he’d been too busy having an existential crisis to find new ones. Jeonghan was easy to banter with, funnier and sharper than his perpetual gumdrop aesthetic would’ve suggested, and he always seemed a little smugly pleased, when Seungcheol volunteered to help with the chairs and the pillows.

To Seungcheol’s pleasant surprise, after Jeonghan had finished with his story for the day, he never vanished into the stacks. Instead, he’d have some kind of a kid-friendly project – usually something nature or science-related – with which he’d engage his young audience. A reoccurring one was a terrarium with Swallowtail caterpillars Jeonghan was raising into butterflies. The first time Jeonghan had brought it out, Seungcheol had fought back a grimace – half because he didn’t much care for any type of bug himself and half because he had a terrible vision of turning his back for just a second and Sumi rushing in to eat one the caterpillars. He had seen her in a park – there was very little he’d fully put past her. 

“Has a kid ever eaten one?” he asked Jeonghan one day, _sotto voce_ , while the children were all practically glued to the terrarium glass. Jeonghan cackled hard enough to have to fix the lemon-yellow beret he’d been wearing to match his lemon-yellow sweater. He had an uncanny knack for looking like a piece of candy come to life. Seungcheol was very thoroughly charmed, as was Sumi, and as were all the kids he’d ever seen interact with Jeonghan. It was funny to watch him move about the room – he was like a father duck always being followed by at least three ducklings.

“I keep the lid on for a reason, nowadays,” Jeonghan said with an exaggerated _whoops_ brow raise. There was something about the relaxed way he held himself, leaning a little towards Seungcheol, and the open, inviting tilt to his head making the light catch on his high cheekbones that Seungcheol would later blame for what he said next.

“Hey, uh, would you like to get coffee with me, sometime?”

Jeonghan didn’t flinch, or frown, or step away. But he stiffened and the playful smile on his face froze into something unnatural. It felt a little like the light in the room dimmed. Seungcheol was swept away by a wave of instant regret.

“Ah. I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

He didn’t offer any platitude or apology, and Seungcheol was oddly glad for that. It didn’t feel like pity, just a clean refusal.

“That’s alright. Sorry about that. I’ll, uh, we’ll see you again,” Seungcheol nodded and slipped quickly past Jeonghan to go fetch Sumi from where she was stacking soft cubes with another little girl. It wasn’t as if Seungcheol hadn’t ever been rejected before. He was twenty-seven and had dated around since he’d gone to university. He could handle a no from a pretty man. That didn’t mean he particularly wanted to prolong the situation, especially surrounded by a dozen toddlers. Sumi wasn’t pleased about being whisked away from her block tower and seemed to sense Seungcheol’s mood, as she snipped and whined all the way home.

It took Seungcheol longer than he was proud of to return to the library. Or, more accurately, it took Sumi a week, before she fully melted down in his car one morning, when she realised that they were once again headed for the big adventure playground at the local park and not the library. She had a wail that could pierce an eardrum and she was not afraid of deploying it. If she hadn’t been securely strapped into her car seat, Seungcheol suspected she would’ve thrown herself at him like an alley cat. She informed him, through snot and tears, that she wanted to see Mr. Jeonghan and his worms and that she hated the playground and hated slides and thought that Seungcheol was being mean and bad and awful and – most hurtfully – a poopbutt.

It all left Seungcheol with precious little choice other than to turn the car around by the park entrance and head back the other way. They made it just in time for the story and were greeted with a smile and a nod from Jeonghan, who seemed glad to see them. And while Seungcheol sat in the back and kept his distance to avoid an awkward chat even after the story was over, Jeonghan made a point of walking by him with a quick nod and a _good to see you again_. 

To make up for lost time for Sumi, Seungcheol took her back again the next morning, more relaxed and confident now that Jeonghan wasn’t about to cold-shoulder him out of the building. Sumi was ecstatic – she ran five steps ahead of him all the way to her favourite pillow, pigtails bouncing. Seungcheol was tired and under caffeinated after a poorly slept night featuring two different nightmares separated only by an hour of wakefulness, where he lied on his back and wondered if his life was going anywhere. He blamed that tiredness, when, at the end of the session, his phone dropped from his lax fingers and the screen shattered into a spiderweb.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath and picked the phone up, slipping it into his jeans pocket with a grimace.

“Fuck!” echoed his three-year-old niece’s bright voice behind his back. He gasped and turned around, reaching for her, before she could run to show off her newly learned piece of vocabulary.

“Oh no, no, no, no,” he whined, swinging her up and against his hip, “That’s a bad word. You can’t say that.”

“Fuck?” Sumi asked, eyes wide and head tilted like a curious bird. She was clearly tracking Seungcheol’s reaction, delighted, and he tried to school his face into nonchalance. It didn’t help that Jeonghan was approaching and looking almost as amused as Sumi, clearly having witnessed Seungcheol’s latest triumph in child rearing.

“The more you react to it, the more she’ll say it,” Jeonghan told him knowingly. Seungcheol bounced her in his arms a little, as if he could shake the word out of her head.

“Her dad’s going to kill me. And then her mom’s going to laugh in my face. Thanks for having us here, but we won’t be coming again, because I will be dead.”

“Dead fuck,” supplied Sumi. Seungcheol couldn’t disagree. Jeonghan, however, looked taken aback. He crossed his arms and frowned, looking from Sumi to Seungcheol.

“Aren’t you her dad?”

“Oh, no, no. She’s my brother’s kid. I’m just helping her mom during weekdays, so she can have some me time.”

Jeonghan’s face went through a complicated series of micro expressions that Seungcheol couldn’t keep up with, before settling into something thoughtful and a little closed off. Their goodbyes that day were more awkward and stilted than they had been since The Incident, although this time the tension emanated from Jeonghan. It bothered Seungcheol enough that when he returned Sumi, he also accepted Sohyun’s offer of lunch he usually waved off, needing a talk with an adult.

“So, let me get this straight,” Sohyun interrupted midway through Seungcheol’s rambling tale recounting his interactions with the librarian, “You asked out the librarian in the middle of his work shift, when he didn’t even know enough about you to know you weren’t Sumi’s dad?”

“Well,” Seungcheol winced and crunched down on a thin slice of carrot from the stir fry. They were sitting at the kitchen island, picking at the remnants of yesterday’s dinner, “In my defence, I hadn’t thought it through. It just kind of slipped out. He’s very cute.”

“Of course you think he’s cute, he reads to kids for a living,” Sohyun dismissed his reasoning and topped up Seungcheol’s glass of water, “You shouldn’t ask people out in situations where they can’t run away from you.”

“I don’t need to be ran away from.”

“Yes, you’re a very sweet boy. We know this. To you, you were just puppy-eyeing a cute boy. But to him, you were a creepy dude with a little kid, and possibly a wife waiting at home, hitting on the librarian, while he was doing his job.”

“That sounds terrible,” Seungcheol pouted, appetite fading with each word. Sohyun patted him on the arm briskly.

“He doesn’t sound mortally offended. Maybe just let it be, don’t Seungcheol it.”

“ _Seungcheol_ it?”

“Overthink to the point of making a mess,” Sohyun translated and after a brief pause added, “Meant with love. You’re very kind; you just get flustered.” While Seungcheol didn’t appreciate his name being turned into a verb, he couldn’t bring himself to disagree, either.

Seungcheol thought about the conversation for the rest of the day and then couldn’t stop thinking about it at all. He took Sumi to storytime, as always, and started driving himself nuts by noticing Jeonghan even more than before. Suddenly, it seemed like Jeonghan was always looking at him, coming up to talk to him and making little jokes. Every time Seungcheol saw him, he was dressed all cute and soft, smiling and laughing at the kids but also at Seungcheol, too. It both made his chest feel warm and fluttery and started to twist him into knots, because the more Jeonghan paid attention to him, the more Seungcheol wanted to bring up things that he now realised were wholly inappropriate for a work place.

One evening, more stressed and anxious than he’d been in a while, Seungcheol took himself out for a jog like an overactive puppy. He ran along the bank of the river, just as twilight was starting to set and the warm yellow streetlights were turning on. The early summer breeze was mild against his bare arms.

Had his earbuds not slipped out just as a figure was walking towards him, he would have run right past them and not given it a second thought. But as he was halted, squinting in the low light to see which earbud was left and which was right, he had enough time to recognise the face approaching.

Jeonghan looked different outside the library. His hair was pushed back with a sweatband and he wore a slouchy blue tee and loose grey sweats, the ends tucked under his socks like a soccer player. Even his face looked off, and Seungcheol realised that he must have worn makeup to work, because he’d never seen even a hint of the dark circles under Jeonghan’s eyes. He looked good like this, too; sharper and more masculine, less like a soft friendly cartoon bunny.

“Hey, Seungcheol!”

Jeonghan slowed down as he reached him and offered a friendly smile but didn’t stop. He could’ve just said hi back and continued on, played it safe and casual, but he was already speaking, before he fully realised he was about to Seungcheol it _hard_.

“Hey, I want to apologise.”

Jeonghan stopped, a little ungracefully, and turned back, surprised.

“I didn’t realise I’d made you uncomfortable when I asked you for coffee. I should have; I’m sorry. It wasn’t an appropriate situation for that, you were working.”

Oddly enough, Jeonghan laughed.

“It’s funny you say that, because you’re probably the only patron who’s ever asked me out without making me uncomfortable,” he admitted and continued with a little wave of his hand, “Not that I loved or encourage your choice of location, but I didn’t say no because you were a customer. I said no because I thought you had a kid.”

“Oh,” Seungcheol was caught off guard. He was so far away from having a kid that it hadn’t really occurred to him that from the outside, for two hours a day at least, it very much looked as if he did have one, “Well. I don’t. Just a niece.” And then, because he was medically incapable of knowing when to stop, he continued, “Don’t you like kids? You’re very good with them.”

Jeonghan looked at him like he was stupid.

“I like working with kids. Doesn’t mean I want one of my own, at least not yet. Or to have to balance a new relationship with a kid in the mix.”

“Right. That makes sense. I just had an image of you as the semi-magical kid whisperer. I didn’t think farther than that.” He was really starting to understand why Sohyun called it Seungcheoling. He could practically hear the grave he was digging himself into.

“Yeah, surprise,” Jeonghan said, not hostilely but perhaps a little wearily, like this wasn’t the first time he’d had to have a similar conversation, “I’m like, a real person, Seungcheol, not just a fun character you see a couple of times a week.”

Seungcheol squeaked out another “sorry”. Jeonghan nodded slowly, waiting for a beat for Seungcheol to say something else before he squared his shoulders a little and visibly let him off the hook.

“Well. It’s a little late for coffee, but I could go for a beer, if you want?” Jeonghan offered, gesturing at the street parallel to the riverbank, “There’s a bar around the corner that won’t mind two people in sweats.” While wearing Adidas trackpants and a sleeveless top wasn’t exactly the first date outfit Seungcheol had imagined for himself, he agreed without hesitation, reeling from the mercurial turn to the conversation.

Three beers and two hours later they were huddled together in the corner booth of the bar, pressed together from shoulders to knees. He wasn’t drunk, at least not from the alcohol, but Seungcheol did feel a little dizzy, whenever Jeonghan craned closer to mutter something into his ear. It was wholly unnecessary; the bar was loud, and no one was paying attention to them – he could’ve shouted out the pin number to his credit card and no one would’ve batted an eye. But, similarly, Seungcheol was sitting squarely with no need to balance himself on anything, yet his hand was clutched firmly over Jeonghan’s upper thigh, fingertips rubbing back and forth against the inseam of his sweats.

The conversation had flowed easier than Seungcheol would’ve ever dared to assume and later he’d look back on the night and wonder how he hadn’t scared Jeonghan off with his oversharing. He’d found himself explaining how his father had died suddenly and how he’d burned out at his job and was now taking a sabbatical, which he could afford only because he’d worked like a machine without breaks for five years and never had any time to live his life or spend his money. Jeonghan listened closely and offered little anecdotes about the library and his odd friends in return. Seungcheol learned that he liked badminton, tennis, and football, and had learned to knit overnight because he’d needed to lead a craft session the next morning. He also learned that Jeonghan got asked out by a patron at least once a month and received lewd comments about sexy librarians even more often.

It was Jeonghan, who finally gave up the ghost, and, instead of leaning in to mutter some new nonsense, pressed a kiss against Seungcheol’s jaw, before tilting his head to a better angle and kissing him on the mouth. Seungcheol allowed him to take the lead for a bit, easing himself into it, before the urge to have Jeonghan exactly where he wanted got so strong that he pulled him in by his waist and pinned him properly under him, against the back of the booth. Jeonghan tensed momentarily at being manhandled, before he shivered, once, and went so deliciously lax and docile that Seungcheol felt all the blood in his body rush south. 

“You know,” Jeonghan said, as he pulled his mouth free after a while and Seungcheol had to settle for nipping at his jaw, “I live like a block over. We should go, before we get kicked out of here.”

They rushed, handsy and embarrassing in a way Seungcheol couldn’t remember being since university, over to Jeonghan’s one bedroom flat. Seungcheol had to admit, as he pinned Jeonghan’s hands against his mattress and sucked a bruise just under the hinge of his jaw, that his bedroom was much more comfortable than a bar booth. Jeonghan made a lovely, almost purring, noise, as he arched his back and brought their still clothed hips together, seeking friction.

In the end, it was a quick fumble more than anything. They didn’t have lube, condoms, or the patience to search for either, but the sound Jeonghan made deep in his throat, as Seungcheol closed his fingers around his dick and sucked on his tongue, was hot enough that he nearly came on the spot. Afterwards, Jeonghan rolled them so he could lay over Seungcheol’s chest like a limpet and brushed sweaty curls off Seungcheol’s forehead with a soft touch.

“I thought you were so handsome, when you first walked in to the library,” Jeonghan told him, quiet and a little slurred – whether from the beers or from the orgasm, Seungcheol wasn’t sure, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so annoyed about an imaginary family.”

“You looked like something out of a story book,” Seungcheol said in return, pink cardigan etched clearly into his mind, “Soft and cuddly.”

“Cuddly?” Jeonghan scoffed, voice quivering with mirth, and tugged on his hair a little, “I’ll have you know I’m very manly and aloof, actually.”

“Mhm. It’s too bad I’m not.” Seungcheol turned under Jeonghan, so that his weight was more at his back than across his chest. “I’m a little spoon.”

There was an amused puff of air against Seungcheol’s neck, but the warm body against his back stayed there the whole night.

**Author's Note:**

> Well....... That's that. I don't know what to say, sometimes your spirit just leaves your body and you write 5k in like a day. If it seems rushed it's because it is. I just wanted to get this idea out of my head. I'm still confused I ended up writing almost-kidfic, considering it's so not my usual thing. Which you can maybe tell from the fact I made her a little gremlin, god bless. If you want to come chat with me about blonde Jeonghan, hit me up @yilinges on twitter. I'm very boring but I don't bite. Hope you liked it! Let me know your thoughts, I always love hearing from you all.


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